A Day of Training
by Krista Perry
Summary: A peek into a day in the life of the swordmaster Hiko, and his 10-year-old apprentice.


The characters of the Rurouni Kenshin universe are the property  
of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha and Sony.  
  
~*~  
A Day of Training  
A Rurouni Kenshin fanfic  
by Krista Perry  
~*~  
  
  
The sun was hanging low over the forested horizon as Hiko  
looked down at the determined, sweat-streaked face of the young  
boy before him. The narrowed, violet eyes that peered up at him  
from under a damp, wild tangle of scarlet hair were hard with  
resolve. Small, calloused hands steadily gripped the hilt of a  
sword that should have been much too heavy for a ten year old boy   
-- and a ten year old who was far too short and thin for his age  
at that. Nearly a year had passed since he had taken the boy as  
his student, Hiko mused, and, standing at full height, Kenshin  
still barely managed to come up to his waist.  
  
"I could wear you as one of my legs," he had often told him.  
  
But what the boy lacked in height, he made up for in spirit  
and sheer tenacity. And to Hiko, that was what mattered. Small  
though he might be, the kid had an inner strength that put to  
shame most of the full-grown adults Hiko had known in his life.   
  
He gave Kenshin the piercing, fierce look that had struck  
terror into the hearts of countless evil men moments before they  
died, and suppressed a smirk as the boy met his gaze without  
flinching.  
  
"Again," he commanded.  
  
Kenshin came at him instantly, silently. Perhaps not quite  
swiftly, perhaps not with perfect form and ease... but that would  
come in time. The boy leapt into the air, thrusting his sword  
forward, shouting a hoarse battle cry.  
  
Hiko raised his sword and parried Kenshin's blow with the  
slightest movement of his wrist, and, with an almost gentle flick  
of his arm, sent the boy flying to land on his back in the dirt.  
  
Kenshin lay gasping on the ground, unmoving for a long  
moment, his eyes clenched shut in pain. Then, with a groan and a  
wince, he sat up.   
  
Hiko watched him stoically. "So, do you know what you did  
wrong this time, baka deshi?"  
  
Kenshin frowned as his breathing evened out, his brow  
creasing intently with thought. Hiko thought he could almost see  
the boy play the attack through his mind again.   
  
"I... still didn't strike at the ideal opportunity," Kenshin  
said at last. "At the Debana-waza." *When shishou first moved,*  
he thought, feeling angry with himself. He had seen it coming.   
He saw the intent in his master's movement before it even  
happened. He knew when and where to strike for his attack to  
connect the way it should. He just wasn't *fast* enough. Yet.  
  
Hiko nodded, inwardly pleased at the correct assessment,  
though his face was impassive. "And so your attack was  
incomplete, making it easy for me to knock you on your butt."  
  
Kenshin didn't reply as he struggled wearily to his feet,  
picked up his fallen sword, and brought it once again into a  
ready stance.  
  
*Tenacity,* Hiko thought with wry, approving amusement. *He  
won't give up, though we've been at this for hours now.* He was  
about ready to oblige Kenshin's unspoken request...  
  
... when a loud gurgle sounded across the clearing. Hiko  
blinked in surprise.  
  
Kenshin flushed with embarrassment, and put his free hand on  
his still-rumbling stomach as if hoping to still it. "Orooo..."  
he muttered.  
  
Hiko cocked an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're hungry again  
already."  
  
"Shishou," Kenshin protested, wide-eyed and indignant.   
"It's almost dark, and I haven't eaten since breakfast."  
  
"You haven't..." Hiko blinked again. Just when he thought  
his stupid pupil couldn't surprise him anymore... But, come to  
think of it, he *had* noticed that Kenshin had slipped away  
immediately after the boy had finished cooking the rice for their  
afternoon meal, but he had assumed it was simply because Kenshin  
wanted to eat alone and take a break from his master's presence.   
"Then what were you doing while I was eating?" he demanded.   
  
"Practicing my kyu-no-giri," Kenshin replied, lifting his  
small shoulders in a shrug that bore no trace of an apology.   
"You told me this morning that it was still sloppy."  
  
Hiko stifled a groan, as well as the urge to smack his baka  
deshi upside the head. Perfecting the Nine-Point Attack had  
become an obsession with Kenshin, the moment Hiko had informed  
him that once he mastered that basic form, he would begin  
teaching him the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu special techniques.   
  
Not that such dedicated focus was a bad thing. But when it  
interfered with other aspects of his training...   
  
"So," Hiko said. "Practicing behind my back, eh?" He  
folded his arms across his chest and frowned severely. "Show  
me."  
  
"Oro?"  
  
"You practiced your kyu-no-giri instead of putting some  
much-needed food into that scrawny little body of yours," Hiko  
drawled. "I want to see if it did any good."  
  
Kenshin paused in surprise only for a moment, before nodding  
with a smile. Lifting his sword and falling with practiced ease  
into the first stance of the kata, he began, flowing through the  
movements of the Nine-Point Attack with a grace and precision  
that belied his aching, weary body, and the gnawing hunger  
roiling in his stomach. It was his own fault that he was so  
hungry, he knew, skipping a meal to practice...   
  
But, in the middle of the complicated kata, as he executed a  
perfect suichyoku-giri and then moved, without a hitch, into the  
hidari-kesa-giri.... he caught a glimpse of the surprised,  
approving look on his shishou's face. And he knew it had been  
worth it.  
  
When he finished, he stood before Hiko expectantly,  
struggling not to let his exhaustion... or his pride... show.  
  
Hiko was once again dispassionate, as if an expression of  
pleased satisfaction had never known what it was like to settle  
on his face. "Well," he said finally, "that certainly was an  
improvement over the mess of this morning."  
  
Kenshin couldn't suppress his smile then, but it faltered as  
he noticed his shishou's countenance darken with a scowl. "That  
doesn't mean I approve of you sneaking off and skipping meals,"  
Hiko said gruffly. "My training encompasses all aspects of life -  
- including when you eat. You're all skin and bones as it is,  
boy. I don't need you starving yourself for the sake of the  
art."  
  
Kenshin opened his mouth to protest, but his stomach  
betrayed him in that moment with another loud rumble.   
Sheepishly, he bowed then, both out of respect, and to hide his  
reddened face. "Hai, shishou," he muttered.  
  
"Now, go get some water to make some dinner," Hiko said as  
he turned away, his pale, scarlet-lined cloak billowing out  
behind him. "And be sure to *eat* it this time."  
  
Kenshin sighed. "Hai, shishou."  
  
And, unbeknownst to the other, man and boy each allowed   
themselves a small, proud smile.  
  
  
~*~  
  
End 


End file.
